


Ripples

by ItsjustMads



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Multiverse, POV Steve Rogers, Post-HYDRA Reveal, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-16 08:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18687910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsjustMads/pseuds/ItsjustMads
Summary: Between Loki escaping with the Tesseract, Stark being irritatingly flirtatious, and having his doppelganger tell him Bucky is alive, dealing with fucking Hydra was not something Steve was looking forward to. All in less than twenty-four hours after fighting an army of aliens with six people.Or: Marvel may have burned our universe to the ground and gleefully drank our tears, but at least they gave us a new one to play with.





	1. Disbelief

**Author's Note:**

> We all need something to dry our eyes with after endgame, don't we? I'm calling this Endgame therapy for the traumatized.

Steve's head throbbed. After all they had gone through, a giant battle against fucking aliens, which they'd _won_ , Loki had gotten away with the tesseract. Seeing him escape when he'd been _right there_ and in chains, no less, made Steve want to smash something-- Hulk-style. Thor had flown back to Asgard immediately to inform his father (who was apparently the Norse god Odin, and how strange was that?), and Nick Fury had ordered the Avengers to stay in New York until they had news.

“We're going to get that sonofabitch or else,” Director Fury had said. “And you all will stay here where we can reach you until we do. No going off the radar on this one. I'm looking at you, Stark.”

Steve was currently staying in SHIELD barracks for lack of better options: a small, windowless room with a noticeable lack of air conditioning. Not that he could afford it in the ‘40s, but the early May heat was uncomfortable. He rested his head on the scratchy pillow and tried to shut off his brain. No use. His thoughts kept circling around that strange fight with his imposter. What not-him had said… “ _Bucky's alive”_.

It couldn't be true. Bucky fell off the train right in front of him. Loki must have been tricking him somehow. Saying what would startle him the most. Maybe he had the power to read minds or something, Steve wouldn't know.

Bucky was dead. That was that. Steve closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

 

#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#=#

 

_Bzzt, bzzzt, bzzt._

 

Groaning, Steve forced himself out of bed fumbled with the ‘off’ switch for the alarm clock. He dragged himself into the tiny adjoining bathroom. As he had suspected, it was a rough night. Leftover adrenaline from the battle added to Steve's brooding thoughts made for a horrible night of sleep. Still, he considered while he brushed his teeth and washed his face, there was work to do and Steve knew he'd feel better after a run. He never did like sitting still.

He took the elevator for once. Jabbing the button for the ground floor, Steve crossed his arms and waited while Agent Sitwell entered.

“Floor, Agent?”

“Two, please”.

Steve tried to make polite conversation, but politeness wasn't his biggest strength. He didn't really know Sitwell-- he had only met him twice so far. Naturally, they ended up standing in awkward silence. The super-soldier serum may have improved his body, but it couldn't change his introverted, inexperienced self.

“Going for a run, Captain?”

“Yes sir.”

Sitwell chuckled softly. “No need for formalities here, Captain. We're all on the same side. Call me Jasper.”

“Then call me Steve,” Steve smiled stiffly.

As the elevator dinged for the second floor, Sitwell smirked at him unnervingly, leaned over, and whispered directly into his ears, " _Hail_ _Hydra_ _”._

His blood ran cold.

 

Frozen with shock, Steve couldn't move. Sitwell smirked again and left, heels clicking decisively on the marble. The elevator door closed behind him.  

What the fuck was that?

A joke? He didn't look like he was joking. He looked victorious; practically gleeful. But if he was serious… Sitwell was Hydra. And if such a high-ranking member of SHIELD could be Hydra, who knew how many more the could be?

That's--That's not possible. Hydra was defeated when the Red Skull was killed. Everyone said so.

_What if everyone lied?_

No he-- Steve could trust them, right? SHIELD, the Avengers-- they were the good guys. They fought together against the Chitauri. Sure, they were no Howling Commandos, but Steve had hoped that they could be a real team someday. And SHIELD gave him a place to sleep, more money than he knew what to do with, and hasn't exactly forbidden him from leaving. Of course, it's not like he had anywhere else to go, but still, they didn't have to provide for him.

_What about the weapons?_

Sure, Nick Fury shouldn't have meddled with the tesseract, but that didn't make them Hydra. Any government agency worth their salt would investigate and try to reproduce something so obviously powerful. It still was right-- he'd seen what Hydra could do with those guns and he didn't fancy seeing them again, even if they were on his side. And… this still could all be some kind of joke. Maybe the twenty-first century had some messed up kind of slang or prank and that was completely normal.

_But then, who dropped the nuke on us?_

This was doing no good. Steve needed to tell someone, now. If he sat on this and Hydra really did have control of SHIELD, who knew what kind of damage they could do. But who could he trust? Steve was suddenly more aware than ever of how alone he was in this strange new world. Everyone he'd ever known was dead or dying and that thought was so depressing Steve had to take a few deep breaths and shake himself back to focus on the problem at hand

So who to tell?  Not anyone at SHIELD or Fury, obviously. Natasha and Barton were too close to SHIELD, and Thor was gone (who knew how long he'd be gone?). Banner was too much of a liability with his anger issues. That left only one option. Steve sighed. Stark it was. He was rich enough to have influence, but clearly didn't get along with SHIELD, and Steve could easily take him down in worst-case scenario if Stark was out of the suit.

Still, that wouldn't make this any less unpleasant. Stark just rubbed Steve the wrong way. He was arrogant, egoistic, selfish, and an all-around asshole. All in all, he was the complete opposite of Steve. Complete with excellent social skills and a talent at flirting. Okay, maybe Steve had been hasty in his first impression and Stark must be very brave and selfless to fly the nuke into the wormhole, but that didn't mean they could get along any better than before.

There was no other option. Steve would just have to face his fears like anyone else. What was a little awkwardness in the face of fucking Hydra.

Howard would never ally with Hydra. Steve could only hope his son was the same.


	2. Uncertainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got this one done nice and early! You guys are so great, your comments and kudos motivate me so much.

“Stark!” Steve shouted, banging on the door of the ritzy hotel Stark was staying in until the tower got cleaned up. “Stark! I know you're here. I need to talk to you!”

He went to Fury first, to find out the address of the hotel, claiming it was about reviewing tactics for teamwork. Fury had eyed him skeptically, but rattled off the place. Walking through the familiar yet unfamiliar streets of New York was enough to dim Steve's spirits, but now Steve was here and Stark _wasn't answering._

He kicked at the door, futility, and wondered if he should just break it down.

“Whazzit?” Stark swung the door open, finally, looking pathetically disheveled. His dark hair hung lose over his heavily shadowed eyes. His clothes were wrinkled and sweat-stained and the bruises from the battle were a blotchy purple on his face and hands.

“You--have you even slept?” Steve asked, temporarily derailed.

Stark scowled, “Of course. I slept for a full five hours.”

Well _that_ sounded like an obvious lie. At Steve’s glare he corrected. “Three hours. Okay fine, not at all. What do you _want_ Rodgers?”

He paused, suddenly feeling anxious. How did one tell a near-stranger that Hydra might have infiltrated SHIELD? “I--may I come inside?”  

Reluctantly, Stark held the door open as Steve entered. The hotel suite was an impressive mess of electronics. He had absolutely no idea what any of these machines were, but they were whirring and humming and flashing lights. The king-sized bed looked unused. In contrast, the large coffee maker had definitely seen use.

Stark crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. “So? Out with it. You look like you've just seen the president grope the American flag right in front of you.”

Now that it came down to it, Steve was feeling more and more uncertain about telling him. He was most likely mistaken anyway. Running on so little sleep after facing down intergalactic threats, it was not implausible that Steve could have hallucinated the whole thing.

Just as he was about turn around and leave, a monitor flashed a glowing picture of Loki grabbing the Tesseract and vanishing. No, he needed to do this. What was a little humiliation in the face of protecting the world, like he was made to do?

Steve gingerly sat down on a miraculously uncovered chair. He tied to think of how to say it without coming off as an absolute lunatic.

“I had a very strange conversation this morning with Agent Sitwell.” Steve began.

“Ooh, did he come on to you? Never would have thought him the type but whatever,” Stark grinned lecherously. “Did no one tell you about gay rights in your ‘Welcome to the Twenty-first-century’ handbook? Gay, bi, pan, ace; it's all a-okay now. Just look at me,”  He gestured vaguely around, presumably at his immense wealth.

“No that's not what happened…” Steve blinked. “You're a homosexual?” It's not that Steve had a _problem_ with it, per say. The army certainly had some of that going on during the war. It was just unexpected to hear someone he knew say it out loud. He'd reviewed videos an articles of the Civil Rights movement, and he thought it was great, honestly.

“I'm bisexual. That means I like boys _and_ girls, if you didn't know. Just ask Pepper, my g—ex-girlfriend.” The grin on his face vanished as if someone had doused a candle in water.

“Um—” Steve tried to change the subject.

Stark waved his hand flippantly. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Apparently she can't handle dating someone who ‘flies nukes into black holes without a second thought’.”

“I'm not really—” Steve almost growled as he was cut off _again_.

“An I oversharing? People say I overshare. Mind you, people say a lot of things and most of them are based on shitty reporting and biased assumptions, but Rhodey says I overshare and if he doesn't know me, who does? That's a rhetorical question, ‘cause obviously Pep knows me second-best--and-now-we're-back-to-her-and-didn't you-want-something?” Stark finished the end of his ramble in a single breath. He sounded… like he hadn't slept.

“I think you need to go to bed.”

“Nonsense, this is nothing. Did I tell you about the time I stayed up over ninety hours building JARVIS? Those were the good-old-days,” Stark looked wistful for a moment before continuing. “Anyways, what do you need? In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to find Loki here. It is proving to be like trying to find a black hole with a binocular.” He sighed in frustration.

“If you're so busy, maybe I shouldn't. It's probably nothing anyway.” Steve glanced away, feeling guilty all of the sudden. Here Stark was, actually helping them while he freaked out over wild theories probably born from sleep deprivation and paranoia.

“No, no, no! You would hardly come to _me_ of all people if it wasn't important.” Stark looked frantic, twisting his hands in what must be some kind of nervous tick.

“What do you mean, of all people?”

“Well it's no secret that you hated me at first sight,” At Steve's horrified face, Stark hurriedly corrected himself. “Not that there's anything wrong with that, I mean, almost everyone does. You're hardly special like that.”

“I don't _hate_ you!” Steve practically shouted. “I don't hate anyone— well except maybe the Red Skull, and some Hydra officers, which is actually what I wanted to—”

“Oh good, I'm so glad I rank above _actual Nazis.”_ Stark muttered belligerently.

Steve had to take a few deep breaths to calm down. Did Stark have to rile him up like this?

“As I was saying three years ago-”

“Ooooh sarcasm from Captain America, is that legal?” Stark seemed delighted, which Steve stalwartly ignored.

“I was on the elevator with Agent Sitwell and before he left, he whispered in my ear, real secret-like, ‘Hail Hydra’. I don't know if its some find of modern joke that I don't get, but Sitwell didn't seem like he was joking.” Having gotten it all out at long last, Steve lost a bit of his steam. “I'm sure it's nothing, anyway. It was stupid of me to come here, I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything,” He stood up and walked towards the door, where Stark was still leaning.

“Wait,” Stark reached out and grabbed his sleeve as he reached for the handle. “Hydra, huh? I don't blame you for freaking out.”

Steve turned to face him, saying nothing.

“Let me see what I can find out. SHIELD’s always seemed a bit suspicious to me. I mean, who put them in charge anyway?”

“The government.”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. You're a riot, Cap.” Stark bounded over to one of the bright screens and started typing impossibly fast. “I don't have all my tools here, so this will take a while. You ready, J?”

“Yes sir,” A disembodied English accent came out of the computer and Steve jumped.

Stark laughed, of course he did, the bastard. “You can come back later, I'll call you when I have something sufficiently incriminating.”

“Thanks for this, Mr. Stark, I—”

“Oh please, call me Tony. Mr. Stark was my father, whom you've met.” Stark—Tony didn't bother even looking at him, so intent he was on the screen.

“Really, I appreciate what you're doing for me, _Tony_.”

Tony waved his hand again. “It's nothing, should be a fun project while there's nothing to do about this Loki business.”

Steve wasn't sure how he felt about hacking into top-secret government agencies being labeled as a ‘fun project’, but he let Tony usher him out.

“I'll call you when there's punching to be done! That's your only specialty, right?”

The sound of Tony's mocking laughter followed him outside.

_God, I hope I'm doing the right thing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, 2012 Steve and Tony really don't get along. Why do I ship them again? Oh right, this little thing called SEXUAL TENSION.
> 
> I'm still mad about endgame destroying literally all of my ships at once. At least they might give us some new ones. What do you guys think about Sam/Bucky? They've had a rough start (-can you move your seat up? -No. and -You couldn't have done that earlier? -I hate you.) but I guess it could be cute. The new TV series gives me hope.


End file.
